


Virtual Learning

by Lovedmoviesb



Series: Richonne AUs [5]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pandemic Fiction, Professor Michonne, Professor Rick - Freeform, Richonne - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26188924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovedmoviesb/pseuds/Lovedmoviesb
Summary: Professor Michonne Hawthorne and Professor Rick Grimes team up to teach a virtual class. Through emails, virtual meetings, and phone calls, sparks fly.Richonne fluff and smut, with a hint of shelter in place.
Relationships: Rick Grimes/Michonne
Series: Richonne AUs [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1426960
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31





	Virtual Learning

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Cc: rgrimes** **@gatech.edu**

**Subject: Adjunct Professor**

Professor Hawthorne,

It's my great honor to e-introduce you to your partner in higher learning for the upcoming semester.

We here at both universities are confident that you are the perfect pair for this pilot program. We appreciate your flexibility as we venture into this new world of virtual learning.

Attached, you will find all pertinent contact information and necessary requirements for setting the semester's curriculum.

As always, do not hesitate to reach out with questions or concerns.

Looking forward to seeing this unfold!

Sincerely,

Professor Greene

-l-l-l-l-

"Is this thing on?"

A heavy southern accent crackled through the speakers of Michonne Hawthorne's laptop, echoing in her empty study. She hastened from the kitchen, teapot in one hand and a steaming mug in the other.

"It's working," she called in what she hoped was her most amiable tone.

She maneuvered as carefully as she was able towards her desk, pausing to step over her cat. He spotted the dish in her hands and yowled loudly.

"Lawrence, you just ate," Michonne admonished.

"Lawrence?" the voice rattling around her office grew increasingly more confused.

"My cat," Michonne explained. She nudged the animal in question with the inside of her foot. Affronted, Lawrence took his leave, disappearing in a blur of gray fur.

"You named your cat Lawrence?" the voice chuckled. "Kind of a fancy name for a pet, ain't it?"

Michonne set her tea down on her desk, bending to look at the screen.

"I normally call him 'Larry'," she said, grinning. "But he gets his formal name when he's in trouble."

"Still," the voice countered. "Big name for a little critter."

"He's named after Lawrence Fishburne," Michonne disclosed, shaking her head at the thought. "My ex was a big Matrix fan. We both were, actually. He took the boxed set of DVDs."

"But you got the cat," the voice pointed out.

"That I did. We decided to split custody of our son, but Mike was always more of a dog person." Michonne settled in her chair at last, coming face to face with her new coworker. "Professor Grimes," she greeted. "Good morning. Sorry for the delay."

"No worries," he was completely nonplussed. "Took me ten damn minutes to figure out how to connect the thing. Took another five to get it unmuted. Don't blame you for grabbing coffee."

"Tea actually," Michonne corrected absently.

"Even better," Professor Grimes grinned crookedly at her. "And only my students call me 'Professor.' Rick is just fine."

"Michonne suits me just fine too." She took a sip of her tea, seizing the opportunity to take him in over the steaming rim of her mug.

Michonne had long since disregarded the need for formalities during the seemingly endless sentence of shelter-in-place. Still, she did not quite expect the man staring back at her. It wasn't to say that he looked unprofessional; he simply lacked the bells and whistles that accompanied other educators. As far as she could estimate, they were around the same age. Rick was starting to go gray at the temples, and there was more than a trace of salt to be found in the dark pepper of his stubble. His hair was longer than she bet he kept it normally, curling at the nape of his neck and around his ears. He'd clearly showered recently by the look of the damp tendrils. The only trace of textbook academia sat squarely on his face in the form of thick rimmed black glasses.

"Sorry I didn't dress up for you," Rick guessed at her thoughts. "Can't seem to put on much more than a sweater or a t-shirt these days."

"I'm in sweatpants," Michonne revealed, wanting to put him at ease.

"I noticed," he grinned cheekily at her, chuckling. "Have to guess you're a cat person. Considering Larry and the pattern of those pants."

She laughed right along with him. It had taken only a few months to revert back to the bohemian lifestyle she once had before becoming tenured. Her locks now sat piled on her head most days, held in place with whatever colorful scarf was within reach.

"You're welcome to wear your pajamas next time we meet," she invited. "It's only fair."

"They're not as fancy as yours, Michonne," Rick deadpanned. "But I'll keep that in mind."

"Well, we have a month to figure out how we're going to shape the young minds of this world via teleconference. Might as well be comfortable." She shrugged.

"It's a helluva year for American History," Rick pointed out. He took a gulp from a nondescript brown mug, smacking his lips.

"My thoughts exactly," Michonne agreed.

"Might be able to make a difference if we do this right. We're picking up from Reconstruction." Rick adjusted his glasses, pinning her with bright blue eyes behind the lenses.

"I think we may need to start earlier than that," Michonne said. "Lay the foundations."

"I think you're right," Rick nodded. "If we play our cards right, we can get all the way to Bush or Clinton."

"I was gunning for Obama," Michonne said. She sat her mug down, reaching for the computer's mouse. "I have a loose outline, but I'm not sure how feasible it is."

Rick's crooked smile made another appearance.

"Something tells me we'll make it happen, Michonne," he told her.

Michonne smiled back at him. "I think we will, Rick."

"Well," Rick took another gulp of caffeine for dramatic effect. "We better get on it then."

"I just emailed you the file," Michonne told him with a wink.

-l-l-l-l-

**To: hgreene@gatech.edu**

**Subject: Professor Hawthorne**

Hey Hershel,

Hope you're taking care. How are the girls? Must be nice to have a full house.

Things are quiet over here. Carl spends most of his days playing video games, and Judith is with her mom for the rest of the week. Leaves me plenty of free time to build a whole new curriculum.

You were right about Michonne. Her credentials alone were enough to impress me. A few conversations with her has made me a lifelong fan. I just hope I can keep up with her intellect.

I'm missing Sunday dinners at your house, but now that I'm getting the hang of this tech, maybe we can do a digital dinner. It'd be nice to see ya'll again, even if it's through a damn computer screen.

Take care of yourself,

Rick

**To: rgrimes@gatech.edu**

**Subject: Book List**

Rick,

I know we discussed the booklist in passing. Next time we talk, we should go over them in more detail. There's some overlap, but I'm not entirely sold on all of them. I've attached my recommendations. Take a peek when you get a chance, and let me know what you think.

Thanks,

Michonne

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re: Book List**

Hey Michonne,

Any reason you're emailing about work at 10:45 at night? Burning the candle at both ends?

The good news is we're on the same page so to speak. I was looking at both of our university booklists. There's some decent stuff on here, but it's pretty ridiculous to ask students to buy a stack that big during a pandemic. Not to mention, a lot of it is run-of-the-mill.

Might be unconventional, but I was thinking maybe we ought to whittle it down a little bit. If we keep it to things they can find for cheap, maybe a few of them will actually do the reading.

I was considering the following:

 _The Fire Next Time_ , Baldwin

 _The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness_ , Alexander

 _Black Reconstruction_ , Du Bois

I'm still making my way through your suggestions. _A Black Women's History of the United States_ for sure needs to be tackled. Think we can cram in Ta-Nehisi Coates to round things out?

Let me know what you think.

Thanks,

Rick

**To: rgrimes@gatech.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re: Book List**

Rick,

That's a case of the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it? It's even later now that when I emailed you, and yet here we both are.

If it makes you feel any better, Larry and I are multi-tasking tonight. I'm two glasses into a good Cabernet, and we're three episodes into a good, old-fashioned late night television binge. I suppose I could always switch over to Netflix, but there's a certain charm to trash late-night commercials. Although, considering I have gone from infomercials to late night "phone call" companies it might be time to call it a night.

On a work note, there is always room for Coates. Let's add him!

Hoping you get more sleep tonight than me,

Michonne

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re:Re: Book List**

Michonne,

What are you watching? My son and I were watching old Bruce Lee flicks, but he fell asleep a half hour ago. Guess the kid can't hang.

Maybe I'll go read instead. I had this plan to get through a pile of books during this quarantine, but so far it hasn't played out that way. I've gotten pretty good at some of Carl's video games though, so it's not a total loss.

And Coates it is. I'll put the list together and shoot it over for approval.

God, I could use some wine. Maybe I'll go grab a beer.

Drink another glass for me,

Rick

**To: rgrimes@gatech.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re Book List**

Rick,

Way to tease a woman with references to Bruce Lee, but not the actual title or channel.

And a son! How old is he? Amazing that he wants to hang out with his old man, but I suppose we can't all be lucky enough to have a dad that's both a history professor and a connoisseur of karate flicks. Andre has to bear the burden of a professor mother and a lawyer father. Somehow he manages to carry on.

What's on your reading list? I've got some suggestions if you want them (disregard that this reading list is in a spreadsheet. I've got a thing for organization).

We can do a book exchange if you'd like. Lord knows my shelves wouldn't object to a little refresher.

Also- I drank the whole bottle. Does that count?

Michonne

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Good Morning**

Morning Michonne,

Guess I couldn't hang as well as I thought. I woke up around 1 in the morning to Carl throwing a blanket over me. Dragged myself to bed, but my back is screaming from laying with my laptop on my chest for hours. Getting old is no fun.

Carl's 14. Should have been starting high school, but looks like we'll both be at home working. He tolerates my presence, but don't tell his friends that. I'll point the camera at him next time we're video-calling. Judith is 6. She still loves being around me, but her mom and I share her. How old is Andre?

I went through your list over breakfast. Is it color-coded Michonne? What kind of masochist uses this many tabs in Excel?

I found a book that I wanted to try. It's been sitting on my nightstand for years, and it's at the top of your list (Tab 2: Sci-Fi Favorites, Row 3).

Unconventional booklist aside, _Kindred_ is PHENOMENAL. It's not often I read fiction these days. I'm going to have to pick up more Butler for sure once I finish that one.

Are we on today at noon? Maybe we can multi-task and do lunch while we work.

Let me know,

Rick

PS: I have the Bruce Lee box set. What kind of amatuer watches cable?

**To: rgrimes@gatech.edu**

**Subject: Re: Good Morning**

Rick,

Not only did I wake up to your judgment-ridden email, but there was a delightfully polite young man at my door, dropping off food. Thrilled as I am to receive food at any time, you can't imagine my surprise at the name on the receipt. I suppose I can't turn down your invitation to a working lunch when you so considerately send the lunch ahead of time.

Also, it's alright to be jealous of my cataloging skills. I know it can be a lot when you lay eyes on perfection for the first time. Rest assured, the shock will pass. Andre has grown quite used to it in his decade of life. One might say he actually enjoys it.

Welcome to the wonderful world of Octavia Butler. Can't wait to chat about it.

See you soon,

Michonne

PS: That's tough talk from an educator who couldn't figure out how to unmute himself on Zoom

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re: Good Morning**

Michonne,

Pretty sure I've seen perfection before, and it wasn't this spreadsheet. Feel free to tell yourself what you need to.

Can't wait to chat,

Rick

PS: Touche

-l-l-l-l-

Rick angled his laptop upwards, staring into the box in front of him in disbelief. He pushed aside his lunch plate, making room to set the package down.

"When I asked you for more fiction recommendations, this ain't exactly what I had in mind."

"What?" Michonne's voice carried more than a hint of a laugh through his headphones. "You asked. I provided."

"Well, you didn't need to send me anything," Rick pointed out. "You already have my harddrive lagging under that absolutely giant spreadsheet-"

"You sent me something first," she defended herself. "I was just returning the favor. Also, you know you love my spreadsheet, and you know you like my recommendations. You're going to enjoy these books."

" _Comic_ books," Rick drew a stack out, holding them like a poker hand. The colorful covers gleamed back at him, an amalgamation of muscled superheroes.

Her laugh this time set her whole body shaking. Rick watched in amusement. Her locs were down, the trinkets in them clinking lightly. He wondered how long her hair actually was. Seated in front of her computer, he could never be sure. She tugged absently at them, leaning forward to smile brightly for the camera.

"You wanted some Coates recommendations," she said. "His _Black Panther_ books are phenomenal. There's some Roxane Gay in there too."

"You know I'm a grown man, right?" Rick teased. He fanned the covers out in his lap.

"I do, Rick," she snorted. "The beard kind of gave it away."

He chuckled, reaching up to stroke the wiry hairs now prominent on his jaw. "Started as a quarantine thing. Never got around to fixing it."

"There's nothing to fix." Michonne remarked. "It looks good."

"You do too, by the way." Rick looked back up at her. "Nice of you to put on real clothes."

She was bundled in a goldenrod sweater, the fabric bright against her carob skin. She seemed to favor bold clothing. Rick couldn't say he minded. Michonne was a canvas, making even t-shirts look like art.

"I'm still wearing sweatpants," she disclosed, "But I thought I'd get back into the habit of dressing up. We're less than a week away."

"That I know," Rick sighed. "This is going to be weird."

"It's probably going to be a mess in the first class," Michonne said. "The good news is, most classes will be. It's new for all of us."

"You're probably right," Rick mused. "You looked relaxed anyway."

Michonne reclined in her chair, pausing to make room for her cat as he leapt into the frame. She scratched him absently behind the ears, considering.

"You were right when you said we can make a change. That excites me. I think we're going to make a good team, Rick Grimes."

He flushed at her praise, turning his eyes away from her lovely smile and to the comic books sprawled out around him.

"Is this how you stay so calm? Reading kids' books?" he teased.

Michonne rolled her eyes. "Crack one open tonight, Rick. I promise you won't be disappointed."

He shook his head, resolving to do just as she suggested. "I need to send you something now."

"You don't have to," Michonne said. "You already bought me lunch."

"Oh I do. Clearly I need to expand your horizons," Rick teased.

"My tastes are impeccable," Michonne countered. "What is it you think you can teach me, Professor Grimes?"

Rick swallowed the treacherous clench in his stomach at her light tone. "I'll think of something," he promised her. "Maybe a pair of pants."

Her laugh startled her pet. The cat looked reproachfully up at her before turning slitted eyes to the computer screen.

"We should probably do some actual work on these work calls," Michonne observed on a sigh. She smiled at him again.

"Well," Rick agreed, reluctantly setting her gift to the side. "Let's get started then."

-l-l-l-l-

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: You Win This Round**

Michonne,

Fine. Not only were the storylines complex and the art beautiful, but you brought me cool points with both Carl and Judith. Now they want to know who this amazing partner of mine is that got me to read something good (their words, not mine).

Carl has already stolen what you sent me. Guess I'm going to have to buy some more.

I'll wipe the egg off my face and see you in an hour for our first class.

Rick

**To: rgrimes@gatech.edu**

**Subject: I Always Win**

Rick,

It's cute that you thought you had a chance. Consider this a valuable lesson.

See you soon. Can't wait.

Michonne

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: First Day**

Michonne,

I need a beer. Join me?

Rick

**To: rgrimes@gatech.edu**

**Subject: Re: First Day**

Rick,

Way ahead of you. Click the zoom link and let's pop bottles.

M

-l-l-l-l-

Rick was flushed, his laugh lines on full display even through her computer screen.

"Not a bad week," he hiccuped.

Michonne curled more comfortably on her couch, grinning at her partner. "Not at all," she agreed. "We made it through three classes, and I got to see you in a tie."

Rick's crooked smile widened. He loosened the knot on the article in question. "And you wore dresses," he pointed out. "We look like we know what we're talking about."

Michonne saluted him, raising her bottle to the camera. Rick mirrored her.

"So what are you doing with your weekend?" she asked.

Rick took a healthy draw on his bottle, considering. "My kids will be here. I figure Carl's going to be knee-deep in the comics he stole from me."

Michonne laughed. "I'll send more," she promised. "I'll ask Andre what Carl might like. Maybe they can start their own little book club."

Rick winked at her. "Not a bad idea. Judith might want to read some too. She wants to do everything her brother does. Any suggestions?"

"Start her on Storm and Wonder Woman," Michonne answered at once. "I've got some laying around the house you can take."

"Nerd," Rick clicked his tongue affectionately. "You're spoiling us."

Michonne shrugged. "It's been months since Dre and I have really been out of the house. We're a little overzealous to make friends."

Rick took another drink, worrying the bottle between his hands. "I know the feeling. If you want, maybe we can set up a date. A _playdate_ ," he hastened to clarify. "Do dinner or watch a movie or something."

"I'd like that," Michonne smiled, hoping he couldn't see her flushing through the screen. "Dre and I will be here this weekend. Does Sunday work for you?"

"Yeah," Rick leaned back, propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. Michonne caught a glimpse of beat to hell boots. "We can figure something out," he promised her.

"Alright, cowboy," Michonne couldn't resist the inkling to tease.

Rick guffawed, wiggling his feet back into frame for her. "Boots gave it away?" he guessed.

"Figured you'd be wrangling cattle this weekend with shoes like that," Michonne giggled.

"Not this weekend. But when this is all over, if you want to learn to ride a horse, let me know."

He winked again and Michonne blushed outright.

"Might take you up on that," she took a sip, hiding behind her bottle.

-l-l-l-l-

**To: swilliams@spelman.edu ; respinosa@spelman.edu**

**Subject: How you doin?**

Hey ladies!

I promise I haven't fallen off the face of the Earth. Just been busy.

I'm teaching a joint class with Professor Rick Grimes at GA Tech. It's been going well, but it's taking a lot of coordination. Good thing Rick is good company.

How are you two? Virtual classes driving you insane yet?

Love,

M

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re: How you doin?**

" _Rick is good company."_

Um, care to elaborate on this? Never took you for the team-teaching type, Michonne.

Must be something about Rick that you like.

Spill,

R

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu; mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re: How you doin?**

I just googled Rick. I'm pretty sure I know what she likes about him.

Cuffing season is coming up. You better lock him down.

But seriously, how are the classes going? Teaching forensics through a computer screen is comically terrible. I'm going to be completely gray by the end of this.

S

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re:Re: How you doin?**

Oh damn, Sasha wasn't exaggerating. Is it Love in the Time of Corona?

And sorry to hear that, Williams. Lit isn't much easier. I can see them falling asleep in squares like they're the narcoleptic version of the Brady Bunch.

We need a catch up session and soon. I'm putting it on your calendars.

R

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re How you doin?**

First of all: You ladies are nosy.

Second of all: Rosita, you're a literature professor. Surely your pun work could be better?

Thirdly: He's cute as hell. That picture doesn't do him justice. You should see the man in a suit.

Fourth: Monday, 6pm, dinner. Let's catch up.

M

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu; mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re:Re How you doin?**

Make it 9pm and dessert and you've got a deal.

I've got a date before that. And before you ask, we both tested negative for EVERYTHING. He's coming over for drinks and food.

S

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Sasha**

You know we're not going to see her Monday, right?

If I had a chance to get laid, you wouldn't see me.

Moving the invite to Tuesday.

R

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re: Sasha**

You're terrible.

But bitch, me too.

See you Tuesday.

M

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Dinner**

Hello Ms. Michonne,

This is Carl using my dad's email. He says we're going to have dinner together this Sunday.

I know he wants to ask you to come over the old-fashioned way, but he's too polite.

We've been sheltering in place for months, and nobody here is sick. So if you wanted to come over, you could do that. And bring Andre.

We could talk about comic books.

Anyway, let me know. It would be nice to have some company

Carl

**To: rgrimes@gatech.edu**

**Subject: Re: Dinner**

Hi Carl,

Pleasure to meet you. I think we'd better leave that up to your dad. Maybe we can schedule a face to face meeting next week? You'd all be welcome over here.

In the meantime, we can talk comics whenever you'd like. Feel free to text me.

555-870-9654

Looking forward to it,

Michonne

**To: rgrimes@gatech.edu**

**Subject: You owe me**

Hey Dad,

Got her number for you. 555-870-9654

Love, Carl

**To: cgrimes@gmail.com**

**Subject: Re: You owe me**

Carl, mind your business.

And thanks.

Love you too, son.

-l-l-l-l-

"Good to know you called me because you're bored," Rick griped without venom into his headphones.

"I'm bored and I'm alone and I called you," Michonne clarified. "Doesn't mean the three things are related."

"Sure," Rick could hear her grin. He missed the sight of her face. They'd seen each other just hours ago during class, but it seemed too long. "You know, calling your coworker at 11pm might be harassment in some circles."

"You picked up," Michonne pointed out. "And we've emailed later than this."

"We have," Rick agreed. He'd taken to bringing his laptop with him to the bedroom, just so he wouldn't miss a message. Carl had installed email on his phone without telling him. Rick wished he could be irritated by his son's well-meaning interference.

"What are you doing tonight?" she asked.

"Getting into bed," Rick answered without a thought.

"Already there," Michonne disclosed.

An image of her, sweatpants clad, hair tied up, filled his mind. Rick went scarlet at once.

"I was going to read," he disclosed, swallowing the knot in his throat.

"What are you reading?"

"Revisiting _the Bluest Eye_." Something about it made Rick think of Michonne. He dug the book out without thinking much of it earlier in the week.

"Oh, I love that book." she sighed dreamily. "Read some to me?"

Rick climbed into bed, sliding his glasses back over the bridge of his nose. He cracked the book open, allowing it to settle in his lap.

"I'm not at the beginning," he warned.

"That's fine," Michonne was nonplussed. "I just want to hear Toni's voice."

"Did she have a southern accent?" Rick deadpanned.

Her laugh was his reward. "Maybe I just want you to read to me," she admitted.

Rick grinned to himself, steadying his breath.

"Alright," he began. He cleared his throat, starting in as smoothly as he could muster. "Love is never any better than the lover. Wicked people love wickedly, violent people love violently, weak people love weakly, stupid people love stupidly, but the love of a free man is never safe. There is no gift for the beloved. The lover alone possesses his gift of love. The loved one is shorn, neutralized, frozen in the glare of the lover's inward eye…"

-l-l-l-l-

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu ; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Code Red**

He read Toni Morrison to me last night.

Fuck.

M

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu ; mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re: Code Red**

Conference call. Now.

S

**To: hgreene@gatech.edu**

**Subject: Policy Question**

Hi Hershel,

What's the school's policy for dating adjunct professors?

Rick

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: What are you doing tonight?**

Hey Michonne,

Got a second to chat? I want to run an idea by you.

Rick

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: HE WANTS TO TALK**

Rick is calling. He wants to run an idea by me. He wouldn't tell me what it was.

This is nothing, right? This is work or the kids?

Right?

M

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re: HE WANTS TO TALK**

"The _kids_ "?

JFC, Michonne, you're already in it. What are you nervous about? This man is reading books to you from his bed like he's Mr. Darcy or something.

Calm down. He better be asking you out or I'll chew him out.

R

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu; mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re: HE WANTS TO TALK**

Rosita is right. Calm down.

You know each other's kids and your kids like each other

You work well together

If this all ends terribly, he works at a public university and you are tenured at a HBCU

You really need to get laid

This is a win win. Update us once he's asked you out.

S

PS: Put on something pretty. Flash a little cleavage.

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re:Re: HE WANTS TO TALK**

You both are the worst. I love you.

The orange sweater is V-Neck. I'll use shea butter beforehand.

God, what if he just asks me about grading or something?

I think I'm going to throw up.

M

-l-l-l-l-

"Hey Michonne," Rick greeted her.

"Hey Rick." She hoped her voice sounded more even than it did in her head. Her heart was rattling behind her ribs so hard that she was sure it might burst through her sweater. She adjusted the neckline.

"Hey," Rick repeated. There was a touch of pink to his complexion. He tugged at the collar of his blue denim shirt, clearing his throat.

"You wanted to ask me something?" Michonne prompted after a moment of silence.

"I do," Rick paused, sucking lightly at his lips. "You look really pretty. That's a nice top."

"Thanks," Michonne swallowed. "You can borrow it sometime, if you want to."

His laugh was too loud, but it successfully broke the ice. Rick fixed her with a blue-eyed gaze, smiling just the slightest.

"I wanted to ask if you want to have dinner with me. Not for work, or with the kids, or through the computer. Face-to-face."

"A date?" Michonne asked cautiously.

"A date," Rick confirmed.

"I'd love to." Her words came out in one rushed breath.

Rick's grin widened. He straightened up, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows absently.

"What if I cook for you?" Rick asked.

"I've got wine," Michonne hedged, feeling dizzy. "If you want to come over."

"It's a date then," Rick chuckled. "I'll see you tonight."

-l-l-l-l-

**To: cgrimes@gmail.com**

**Subject: See you next weekend**

Hey son,

Tell your mom hi for me. I'll see you next weekend. Got some stuff to catch you up on when you come.

Love,

Dad

PS: I definitely owe you one

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: It's a date!**

He's coming over to cook for me. Andre is with his dad.

I've got wine, I've got a nice dress, and the house is clean.

Am I forgetting anything?

M

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu**

**Subject: What do you think?**

Ribbed for her pleasure, or just the normal ones?

S

**To: swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re: What do you think?**

Regular. I've seen pictures of this guy. I don't think they're going to need the extra hand.

If you order now, It should arrive before he gets there.

R

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: ?**

Are you kidding me?! What if I had opened these in front of him?

M

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re: ?**

That's kinda the idea, chica.

R

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu; respinosa@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re: ?**

Have fun ;)

S

-l-l-l-l-

Rick tugged at the sleeves of his tan blazer, smoothing down his sweater beneath it. He wiggled his ankle to shake the leg of his dark washed jeans over his boot. Satisfied that he looked presentable, he raised a fist to knock on Michonne's door.

She answered within seconds, swinging it open. Rick's breath caught in his throat when he saw her crimson dress. Her locs were loose and down to the middle of her back, her skin shining, her arms bare. She smelled better than he could have possibly anticipated, a heady mix of something tropical. Rick did his best not to fog up his glasses as he stared.

"You made it," she greeted, smiling nervously at him.

"I did," Rick stepped forward. "I wanted to get you a bouquet, but…" he brandished a single rose. "Florists aren't really open right now."

She took it, her hand lingering against his.

"Thank you." Michonne paused to smell the gift. "Come in. I'll open a bottle."

Rick followed her inside, shutting the door snuggly behind them.

-l-l-l-l-

Michonne had gone over every single scenario of how tonight could have played out in her head. She fully expected to enjoy Rick's company, fully anticipated good conversation and a good meal. What she had not counted on was the sight of him in blue jeans and a blazer, or worse still, the sweater underneath, the collar of a flannel shirt just visible over the neckline. His eyes were bright beneath his thick rimmed glasses, and she found that the cowboy boots didn't look half-bad in person.

The scent of his cologne combined with a glass of wine left her dizzy. He was seated on her couch, his leg pressed against hers, his arm draped over the back of the cushions.

"Did you eat enough?" he asked her, smiling behind his beard.

"I did," she assured him. The pasta was delicious, and she'd told him as much as many times as he could stand to hear it.

"Good," Rick wet his lips. His hand moved just the slightest, his thumb brushing the skin between her neck and collarbone. She shivered.

"Do you want more wine?" she asked, moving closer still to him.

From a nearby recliner, Larry sat up, glancing suspiciously at the two of them. With a yawn, he cleared the room, perhaps sensing the oncoming storm.

"No thanks," Rick's face came nearer still, dipping towards hers.

Michonne leaned up, meeting him halfway. His lips were firm and warm, the taste of chardonnay still clinging to them. Michonne brushed a palm along his cheek, following the curls of his beard until she could lace her hand behind his head.

Rick's arms closed in around her, one hand spanning her back, the other rubbing patterns into her bare arm. Michonne gasped, a moan escaping her. Rick held her tighter still, coaxing her mouth open against his.

She was a shaking, quivering mess when they came up for air. Rick didn't look much more composed. His pupils were blown out, his glasses askew, his skin flushed and warm.

Michonne reached up, removing the frames. She leaned forward to set them on her coffee table, steadying herself on Rick's legs.

"Michonne," her name was a gravelly whisper on his lips. Her resolve shattered.

"Do you want a tour of the house?" she asked. "There's only one room you haven't seen."

He drew in a sharp gasp. "I do," he swallowed thickly.

Michonne stood on shaky legs, reaching for Rick's hand.

"Come on," she prompted.

Rick followed with a grin.

-l-l-l-l-

If the dress had made his mind fuzzy, the sight of Michonne without it threatened to wreck him completely. Rick ran his hands over every inch of skin he could see, pressing sucking kisses while he embraced her from behind.

Michonne gasped, reaching back to hook an arm around his neck, pulling his chest flush against her back. Her rounded ass crashed into him.

"Rick," she whined his name, rolling backwards against him.

He muffled a groan against her shoulder, holding her close, pressing his length against her.

They fell upon her bed in a tangle, all flushed skin and clashing lips. Michonne's hands groped at his arms and chest, and down his back until she reached his waist. She slid her palms into the back of his boxer briefs.

"Christ," he gasped, desire roaring in his veins red hot. He sat up, looking down at her.

Michonne's locs were fanned out around her pillows, her lips kiss swollen, her skin dewey. He'd never seen anyone so appealing in all his life. She sat up just enough to remove her bra. Rick caged her between his arms, unable to resist leaning down to take her into his mouth.

Her moans urged him on along with her hands, her nails raking up and down his back. He hooked his thumbs in the scant lace of her panties, rolling them down her curved hips. She kicked them free, mirroring him until they were completely naked, skin pressed against skin.

"I don't have anything," a sudden realization stopped Rick short. He cursed his decision to leave the house with nothing but his mask.

"I do," Michonne assured him eagerly. She leaned up, fumbling around in her drawer for a box of condoms. "Just in case," she smiled sheepishly.

Rick seized one of the foil-wrapped squares, grinning wolfishly at her.

"Good plan," he assured her, leaning down to kiss her deeply once more.

-l-l-l-l-

The stretch of him was exquisite, a delicious push and pull that left her gasping. Michonne braced herself, curling her fingers into the sheets beneath her. She gathered her knees under her, throwing her hips back against Rick's.

"Fuck," the curse word sent a thrill through her, though not nearly as much as as his hand creeping beneath her.

Rick seized her, drawing her up until he could kiss her. The frantic pace of his thrusts slowed, digging deeper still until her cries became one frantic moan. He continued on, one hand holding her up, his lips against hers, his hand working at her until there was no distance at all between them.

She shattered again, crying his name, tightening around him until he fell over the edge with a grunt.

They collapsed in her bed, still holding one another. Michonne enjoyed the gentle rise and fall of his chest, lulling against him.

"Stay the night?" she requested, kissing his cheek.

Rick chuckled, hugging her gently. "Don't think I could go anywhere, even if I wanted to."

-l-l-l-l-

**To: mhawthorne@spelman.edu; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: So?**

It's noon. He's either killed you, or he put your ass to bed. Which was it?

Spill, Michonne.

R

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu; swilliams@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re: So?**

I'm up! Don't call the police.

I promise I'll fill you in.

In the meantime, Sasha, what was the brand you sent me? I'm going to need more soon.

M

**To: respinosa@spelman.edu; mhawthorne@spelman.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re: So?**

Attagirl. Buy in bulk. Saves money.

S

**To: rgrimes@gatech.edu**

**Subject: Re: Policy Question**

Rick,

It's a simple matter of the couple reaching out to HR together. Want me to connect you?

Hershel

**To: hgreene@gatech.edu**

**Subject: Re:Re: Policy Question**

Yes please.

Rick

**To: rgrimes@gatech.edu**

**Subject: When do we get to meet her?**

So when's Michonne coming over?

Carl

**To: cgrimes@gmail.com**

**Subject: Re: When do we get to meet her?**

This weekend. Michonne and Dre. Pick out a movie for us to watch.

-l-l-l-l-

"You know, these aren't half bad," Rick remarked.

He shoved his glasses up his nose with an impatient thumb, squinting at the screen of his laptop.

"They've had good teachers," Michonne remarked.

He nudged her, bumping his bare shoulder into hers. Michonne giggled. She shut her own laptop, setting it on the nightstand beside her.

"Michonne," Rick cautioned, trying and failing to ignore her. "We need to grade."

"We will," she assured him. She pressed her lips to his cheek, tugging lightly at his beard. "I think we earned a quick break though." She kissed up his neck, drawing the lobe of his ear between her lips.

Rick shut his laptop with a snap, leaning over to set it down. He returned to her side in a blink, tugging her into his arms and underneath him. He swallowed her laughs, settling between her legs.

"It ain't going to be quick," he assured her, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips.

"Good," Michonne grinned, wrapping her arms around him.


End file.
